


Collapsing Underneath Your Perfect

by ausfil



Category: Westlife
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Break Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exes, Friendship/Love, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Oral Sex, Post-Break Up, Secrets, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausfil/pseuds/ausfil
Summary: Being in love with Nicky is wrong. Mark knows that. Especially when Nicky is his best friend’s ex.





	Collapsing Underneath Your Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SwedishGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwedishGirl/gifts).



> For SwedishGirl who wanted hurt!Mark.
> 
> I was kinda worried because this is my second unrequited love fic in a row but I tried my best to not make it too similar! Hope you enjoy it xx
> 
> Title from the song ‘Sink In’ by Amy Shark.

Mark didn’t know what he did. Although, he guessed it wasn’t really about him. Not when they had been talking just fine until Nicky caught a second’s glimpse of Shane coming out of the airport and babbled that he needed to go. Before Mark could even say bye, he was off with a driver. So it was about Shane. It didn’t make Mark feel any better.

“Where’s Nicky?” Kian asked. Shane was staring at the ground as they walked to the airport pickup zone.

“He had to go. Family emergency,” Mark lied for him.

“Oh,” Kian was looking genuinely worried. “Did he say what happened?”

Shane sighed and rolled his eyes. “We’re in London, Kian. He doesn’t have a family emergency. He doesn’t want to be near me.”

“Come on. That’s not true,” Kian’s voice wasn’t confident enough - the way it was last night.

It hadn’t been the same between Shane and Nicky for a while, despite them being together for three years. It was just like natural law. Wherever Nicky went, Shane went. Wherever Shane went, Nicky went. But that hadn’t been the case for months. Little cracks had started to appear with the lightest of jabs, and kisses of the heart were replaced by a storm of bickering and firing shots at each other.

Then after last night’s show, they’ve just been watching a movie in their hotel room when they heard Nicky yell on the other side of the wall.

“Shit,” Kian jumped and paused the screen, “was that Nicky?”

Then Shane yelled back. And Nicky again. A muffled exchange of sounds of deep-rooted anger that could probably set the wallpapers on fire if they continued.

“Should we do something?” Mark asked, and Kian looked just as lost as he did.

It wasn’t long until they heard a door slam shut, then theirs busted open. Nicky stood there, tears brimming in his eyes and fists rolled, trembling. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

“Of course. What happened?”

“I… It’s over. He dumped me.” Mark pulled him into a hug immediately, felt the poor boy break against his embrace and mould to his shape. It was heartbreaking to feel; raw against his skin. Kian asked why, and Nicky didn’t want to talk about it. He offered to swap rooms and promised to talk to Shane, then Mark was left alone with this miserable boy.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Mark put his arms around shrugging shoulders. “Okay. Whenever you’re comfortable then.”

Nicky didn’t speak a word that whole night. He had just lied down with his back against Mark, softly sobbing into the pillow until the Sun washed over the room, not catching a single blink of sleep. And Mark had stayed up with him through every minute, occasionally handing him tissues and giving him hugs.

Because of course he would. He would do anything for this boy. Even if this boy was in love with someone that wasn’t him.

Mark had made peace with that years ago when he’d seen how happy Nicky was whenever he looked at Shane, and that unsettling ache inside when he realised that Nicky would never look at him in the same way. It was torturous. So fucking torturous and lonely with no one to talk to about this except the moon. About how the colours in the world seemed brighter every time Nicky was around, how his heart refused to beat for another soul, how the concept of love only circled around the sweetest boy who happened to be in love with his best friend.

And now, he was the ex of his best friend. It was water that he would never even dare to tread. Shane was too precious to hurt. And Nicky was definitely too precious to hurt. He himself could hurt instead – it was fine. It wasn’t anything new.

***

They had a week off in London until the Asian leg of their tour, and Mark had tried to call Nicky. And Shane. Any of them, to try and bring them out for a night instead of being sad statues at home all day. Failed every time though. Kian had succeeded with Shane once by guilt tripping him, and it seemed to work. Mark had been invited too, but he felt like they would be leaving Nicky out if the three of them went alone. They always went out as a fourpiece if they were in the same city. Minus one felt wrong.

When he tried again, Nicky picked up almost immediately. First time that happened.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you’re sounding a little better.”

“Yeah. Well. Just gotta… move on, I guess.” Nicky didn’t sound like he believed himself. A weak voice that gave Mark no hope at all. “What’s up?”

“Wanna go out for a drink or something?”

“Markus, I-“

“Please? Come on. You need to get out. What good is it gonna do if you’re just home by yourself all day?”

“I’d much rather-“

“Stay home. I know. Just this once.” Nicky moaned in protest. He was halfway won over. “Trust me – you’ll feel better. Please.”

He heard Nicky sigh and grunt at the end of it. Success. Finally, after days. “Fine. Meet you at the usual pub in thirty minutes?”

***

Nicky was knocking it back like he had never tasted vodka in his life before. Mark was beginning to think maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Shane’s always been a prick, don’t you think?” Nicky slurred. He didn’t believe it though, Mark knew. He blushed guilty as soon as he said it. “I… not a prick. He’s fuckin’… stupid and kind and lovely and stupid and stupid. But y’know.”

“Yeah.” Mark didn’t even want to drink anymore, and Nicky was, well, destined for a torturous morning tomorrow. “Can I ask why he dumped you? If you wanted to talk about it.”

Nicky scoffed, rolling his lazy eyes. “He said he was tired.”

“Tired?” Mark raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing was the same anymore. Nothing. It was all pointless fights and blaming each other for pointless things and not talking about stuff.” Nicky rested his chin in the palm of his hand, puppy eyes close to leaking, looking so broken and small. Mark kind of wanted to punch Shane in the face. “Then he… said it was over. He couldn’t do it anymore. Too tired, apparently. And then we got into another fight.”

When Nicky angrily emptied his glass, Mark poured some of his in. That was gone in a second too.

“I was just so mad, you know?”

Mark nodded. Felt so useless. Selfish. Here his friend was, on the verge of crying and right in the middle of heartbreak’s realest stage, and all he could think about was how lucky Shane had been. At least Shane _had_ it. At least Shane knew what it felt like in flesh and bone, not just in midnight imagination, not just in the perpetual and harmful hunger.

“Three years, Mark. _Three_ years of my life, I’ve lived for him. We lived for each other. We had something that I never even thought I deserved. And I was so willing to fight for us. It was too special to let go. Shane is too fucking special.” Nicky sniffed and swallowed down gallons of threat. “But he didn’t want to. He… he was willing to throw it all away. He’s just stupid, you know? Just bloody… You know what he is?”

“Stupid?” Mark wondered if he was supposed to take away Nicky’s drinks to be a good friend.

“Exactly!” Nicky pointed at him before that same floppy hand landed on his glass. “See? You always got me. You _know_ me, Mark. And I love you for it. Seriously,” he reached out to grab Mark’s shoulder. He tensed. “Mate, I love you so much. You know? So much.”

“I love you too,” Mark tapped the hand on his shoulder. They were saying vastly different things, despite enunciating the same words.

The hand flopped back down from his skin, and Mark missed it already. “Yeah. And the person who I really want to love me fucking doesn’t anymore.”

Okay. Ouch. Mark felt every blood cell shut off one by one. “Come on,” he tried to sound levelled, “of course he still loves you. It’s Shane.”

Nicky shook his head and sighed, a wave of alcohol smells hitting the entire space. “I should have known. He… he was getting stupid and distant and stupid lately. We weren’t _us_ anymore. I… I don’t know. I should’ve seen it coming.” Mark didn’t know what to say. Not when he was doing all he could to focus on not breaking apart right here. “Fuck,” Nicky scrubbed his eyes dry and took another swig of his drink. “Let’s not talk about Shane anymore. He can go fuck himself. Let’s talk about you!” Nicky put a smile on, and as much as he loved Nicky’s smile more than life, he hated how much it hurt when it was fake. “What’s new with you! Tell me.”

“Ehm,” Mark fiddled with his glass, “nothing, really. Nothing interesting.”

“Seeing anyone that we don’t know about?”

Mark shook his head and lowered his gaze. “Not when we’re on tour all the bloody time. We don’t really have time for that.”

“Well, you can always make it work if you really like someone. You like anyone?”

Mark bit the insides of his cheek. _You, asshole_. He swallowed the daggers of the words back down to the pit of his stomach. “Nah. Not really interested in that stuff right now. We’re back at work next week so I’m just focused on that.”

“Ah come on. You’re young. Get out there! What about like,” Nicky was looking around the bar. God, he hated this already. “That one! He’s cute, ay?”

“Not my type.” Mark didn’t even look properly. There was no point. He didn’t want anyone else anyway.

“What’s your type then?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. Someone who’s nice. Someone who’s… funny and confident and sensitive and really gets me and-“ Fuck. What was he doing? He stopped himself with another nonchalant shrug. Nicky didn’t seem to realise which was a relief to say the least.

“You mean like me?” Oh. His chest clenched. Was sure that he looked stupid with an awkward gap in his mouth, pupils trembling, but not as much as the most hidden shadow of his heart. Nicky started laughing though. “I’m joking. Ease up.”

Mark laughed along, a cracked chortle that sounded too loud in his ears.

The game of pointing at random men in the bar continued after that for a lot longer than Mark would have hoped, and he forced himself to laugh through chest aches, feeling his bones tingle whenever Nicky flashed a clumsy laugh his way, until Nicky’s liver finally gave up. It was about time. A viridescent glow overtook red cheeks and Nicky was darting to the bathroom. Mark picked up his jacket, ready to drag him home.

***

The week off went by too quickly. Mark didn’t talk to Nicky much after that night. And to be frank, he didn’t really want to. He didn’t want to listen to more Shane stories. He didn’t want to watch Nicky cry and be miserable and know that he didn’t stand a single chance to mend him with love. Because love was off the table. It was in the ground, buried and mourned and never worth a look back. It didn’t make sense for him to bring it up. Ever. It didn’t make sense for him to even _be_ in love with Nicky, but love and logic never belonged together in the first place.

When they gathered at the airport for the first time, Mark really wanted to go home. This wasn’t them. They weren’t about awkward silences and tensions and sizing each other up. They were about brotherhood and love and family – Kian leading everyone on, Mark laughing along with whatever was going on around him, Shane and Nicky being… well, Shane and Nicky; two magnets always stuck together at the hip and spreading a trail of love hearts and rainbows every step of their way.

But _this_ was not them. No one was talking. The walk to the plane, they looked like four strangers. The trail of loves hearts and rainbows turned into a trail of blood and dust. Shane looked like he was ready to cry any second. Nicky was pretty much the same. Kian didn’t know what to say. Mark wanted to cry just watching Nicky want to cry.

The flight was a silent coffin in the sky.

***

Hong Kong was a beautiful city, Mark had heard. And so was Seoul and Quezon City and Shanghai, apparently. He wouldn’t know for himself because they never bloody went out. Asia was a place that had always gifted them with hilarious and ridiculous drunk stories of touring nights, but as soon as the concerts were over this time around, both Nicky and Shane would head to their hotel rooms, and Kian was off to talk to his girlfriend on the phone if they weren’t going out as a group. It wasn’t even worth suggesting a night out because of those duds, Kian had said. So Mark got an extensive view through hotel windows of these cities.

And Hong Kong was definitely beautiful in the silence through the glass. He was left alone with his thoughts, which were just as beautiful with blue eyes, blonde hair, and a husky voice that he could imagine any day and give himself chills.

The next day, they were off to Taipei, and when Kian thought he’d try one and suggested a night out, both of them agreed to it, much to their surprise.

So here they were, the four of them sitting together in a booth, knocking drinks back and talking shit about nothing through a chorus of laughter. Well, it was mostly Kian and Mark making the effort to talk. Shane and Nicky didn’t really look at each other but still, this was solid progress.

The noisy efforts didn’t stop well into the night, until Shane said he had something to say, a morose glint of guilt in his eyes as he stared at each of them. “I wanted to say sorry,” he murmured suddenly. The three sat in silence and gave him the space to carry on. “This feels good, huh? Just us four hanging out like we used to.”

“It’s good, yeah. Missed it.” Kian crooned, an awkward elbow to Shane’s arms.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I feel like we kind of messed up the band a bit.” Shane looked up at Nicky, him on the verge of tears as he tried to figure out what that ambiguous expression on Nicky’s face was, before he averted his gaze. “It wasn’t fair on you two. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s-“

Nicky’s scoff cut Kian off. “ _We_ messed up the band?” Mark glanced over at Shane, surprised hazel orbs lost in the scornful tone of Nicky’s voice. He kicked Nicky lightly underneath the table. Didn’t seem to get the message though. This competitive hothead, Mark wanted to tape his mouth. “I wonder who it was that broke it off in the first place.”

“Nicky, I…” Shane’s voice was wavering. A tough swallow of holding back tears, a poor Adam’s apple bobbing in the midst of the storm. “I was just trying to say it wasn’t fair for these two to get caught up in it. I wasn’t trying to…” The voice was still soft. Eyes even softer. Not accusing or antagonising or anything. Just craving the end of this exhaustive battle and a sliver of understanding. “I wasn’t blaming you. At all. I wouldn’t do that.”

Nicky stayed quiet. The sharp edges in the corners of his eyes started to withdraw themselves in shame, as did his tense shoulders. He lowered his head for a bit, the other three holding their breaths. “I’ll catch you guys later,” then he stood up and strode out of the hotel bar, despite Shane calling his name.

Kian was busy comforting a crestfallen Shane who was apologising again, asking what the fuck is was that he did wrong, and Mark slipped away to check on Nicky.

Just as he was about to put his card in the slot, he stopped himself. Maybe Nicky didn’t want to see anybody. Maybe there was only so much he could do, despite what he wanted. Maybe it wasn’t his place, as much as he wanted it to be.

He knocked instead. Silence was the only answer.

“Nico?” Another knock.

The door opened, and he was met with rheumy eyes staring up. Mark felt a drop of blood from his heart for every tear that dropped alone from those beautiful blues. “Don’t you have a key?” His voice was low and husky.

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Nicky just nodded. “Can I come in?”

Mark walked past when he stepped aside and settled on the couch, joined by his friend.

“Are you okay?”

“Grand.” Yeah. Sure.

“Nicky.”

Nicky stared at him for a while, a useless façade slowly folding. He sighed and moulded to the shape of the couch, arms crossed over his chest.

“You know, if he was a dick about it, I think it would have been easier.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, he’s so nice all the time. He’s calm. If he was just screaming at me and telling me to go fuck myself and being a bitch about it all, it would have been easier to get over him. Because he’s an arse.” Nicky scoffed to himself. “But he’s not. Every time I look at him, it’s just the same sweet Shane. A little quieter, but still _him_.”

“Yeah.” Mark put an arm around his shoulder that Nicky leaned on. A beachy whiff of coconut filled his nose as he tried to not let it distract him. “It’s tough. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Nicky mumbled and looked up at him. Mark just smiled back. Nicky didn’t.

What he did instead was lean up and kiss him.

Mark froze against soft lips. Paralysis shot up his brain, his cognition dismantled, a metal cage around his chest tightening with every second Nicky’s lips waltzed on his. This was crazy. It was not okay. His mind _screamed_ at him to stop this. To pull back instantly, but he didn’t.

What he did instead was kiss him back.

A scene that came straight out of his dream, Mark didn’t know just how euphoric it was going to be. The dreams had it all wrong. Because Nicky’s fingers were caressing his nape, pulling him in closely, and this feeling of being taken by the one thing he loved more than anything was a feeling that even supernatural layers could not encapsulate.

Just when Mark was committing himself, Nicky reached down to open his zipper, shoved his hand through the band of the boxers. Fuck. Mark broke the kiss and gasped.

“Nicky, are you sure about this?” He knew this was wrong in the back of his mind. This was his friend’s ex for fuck sake. And his own goddamn friend. He should have stopped it. But when cheeky fingers brushed the tip of his length, he forgot why.

“I’m sure. Just shut up.” Nicky kneeled down on the floor, pulled down distracting garments. He looked up, eyes filled with furious flames rising beneath the pupils, an almost malicious smirk decorating those lips as the same fingers teased the base of his cock. “Do you want it?”

Mark was speechless. Years of painful yearning shoved his head to nod, and before he could utter an opinion of a sound mind, soft lips closed around his tip. And _Jesus_ , Mark’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull.

A sly tongue rolled up the side of his dick, then another roll base to top. A teasing press to the slit of its head, and Mark was a shivering mess with his entire brain scattered across the couch. When Nicky engulfed the tip again, he looked up, and Mark’s heart definitely screamed love. Their eyes connected, a string of electricity lighting up between them as Nicky worked the length.

“God, Nico…” Mark revelled in the bliss of it all. When Nicky closed his eyes and groaned softly against the most sensitive skin, Mark felt his chest jolt., both inside and out. Because the noises Nicky was making were easily the most beautiful noises he had ever been blessed with, and when he pulled back with the sound of a wet pop, the emptiness was replaced with a warm palm.

“You’re gorgeous,” Nicky whispered before he leaned down to pepper hungry kisses along Mark’s thighs, the hand still caressing his erection, and Mark wanted to cry a little bit.

This… wasn’t fair, he realised. To either of them. As much as he wanted to feel Nicky’s lips on him for as long as time allowed it, he realised with every kiss that Nicky planted on his thighs that those kisses didn’t belong to him. He didn’t deserve to have them. This wasn’t right. He was probably going to kick himself later.

“I think we should stop,” Mark susurrated, and the kisses ceased. He missed them already.

Nicky looked up, confusion studded in sparkling blue orbs. “What?”

“We… We shouldn’t do this.”

“Oh,” a bitter taste swirled in Nicky’s mouth as he awkwardly got up. “Right.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it. Really. You were amazing. I just… I can’t do it to Shane. And I can’t do it to you.” Mark felt his cheeks flush as he tried to pull his pants back up over his erection. “I’m sorry.”

Nicky looked like he was slowly being pulled back to reality the moment he heard Shane’s name. The fire in his eyes watered down as he collapsed back onto the couch, the initial energy in him flown out the window. “Yeah,” he breathed. “You’re right. Fuck. Jesus, what am I doing?” He looked like he could cry again, a swollen lip bitten and chewed on in a flash-flood of guilt, and god, this was not what Mark wanted.

“Look, it was just… an impulsive moment. Whatever. We can pretend this never happened if you’d like.” Mark crooned, and Nicky looked up with a bit of ease clearing the flood. He couldn’t tell if it was good that he could comfort Nicky, or if it was heartbreaking that this pretty much meant nothing to Nicky.

“You’d do that for me? Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” He smiled for the poor boy, putting his own poor heart aside. “I promise. Don’t feel guilty about it.”

“Right, I… Okay.” Nicky took a moment to process, to nod and take a deep breath for himself. “So you and I are… we’re good, yeah?”

“Absolutely. A hundred percent good.”

Nicky studied him for a bit, then reached out for a grateful hug. Mark settled in it, buried his face in the crook of Nicky’s neck and let himself take it in for a while. He needed this.

***

Not even two words were spoken in between Nicky and Shane since then. They would conveniently look out to the crowd when they had to cross paths on stage, then offstage was like walking on ice.

Mark couldn’t lie though; with them avoiding each other most of the time, Mark got to spend more time with Nicky, and he was… happy, if that didn’t make him too much of a devil. Chill movie nights in hotel rooms and dinner together. Getting to be the first one Nicky reached out to when he needed a shoulder to cry on, getting to see Nicky smile more as the days went, getting to have him within an arm’s length. Platonic exterior, of course, but it was still nice, because there wasn’t a single bone in his body that wasn’t weak for Nicky. It’s not like Nicky had to know though. It was better like this.

Like now, when they just lied down on the bed, drowning in calm sunshine, watching daytime reality shows.

“Is it weird if I talk to him about it now?” Nicky asked, and Mark wanted to say yes. He looked away from the screen.

“What did you want to say?”

“Just… sorry. About the other night.” Nicky shrugged, eyes focused. “That I was being shitty.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

Nicky didn’t speak after that. Just sunk in his own thoughts, and Mark would have bled himself white to know what Nicky was thinking, to find out if he would have to prepare for something he didn’t want to prepare for.

He let Nicky ruminate in silence.

***

Mark didn’t really focus on the book in his lap, but at least it was there. Something to entertain himself with until Nicky came back so they could grab dinner together. He kept looking at his watch every minute, even though he didn’t know when Nicky was coming back.

He had stepped out for a walk, and when Mark offered to go with him, Nicky said thanks but no, needed a bit of time to himself, said that he’d be back for dinner. Mark had to admit he was a bit crestfallen, but he got it.

And now, two hours on, Nicky wasn’t back for dinner yet. He glanced at his watch again before his phone beeped. Silly little palpitations in his heart when he saw Nicky’s name pop up.

 **I'm gonna go talk to Shane… Think it’s best. Probably have dinner without me, sorry** , the text read.

The palpitations killed themselves off.

 **Wish me luck** , the next text came through.

Luck. Fucking luck. Mark puffed an angry sigh and put his phone down flat. He looked at his book again. The words seemed to be jumping everywhere, nothing being processed into his brain with the barricade of Nicky blocking everything else. God, this was ridiculous. He was being an idiot. He picked his phone back up.

 **Ok. Hope it goes well for u. Good luck X** , he typed.

With an empty pang in his chest, he sat back, head leaning on the wall and closing his eyes. It was for the best if it worked out between them. It wasn’t like he was going to try and pursue anything anyways. The bigger picture mattered more.

He supposed he was glad, if that was the sufficient term to use. Because nothing in the world was better than Nicky smiling, and nothing was worse than when he wasn’t. And the thought of Nicky potentially smiling at the end of this, well, that made it okay. It made everything okay.

He heard the door open and close on the other side of this wall. Then some murmuring.

So it was happening. They weren’t screaming at each other. It was calm. It was genuine. It was an actual conversation. He heard some crying too. He died a little.

Long minutes passed, that felt like decades for Mark who was clenching a fist around the blankets without even realising, when the talking eventually stopped. Mark tried to lean in closer somehow.

“Oh, Nicky…” He heard Shane moan, muffled through the wall but clear enough through the thinness.

Then there was a sharp grunt. Nicky’s husky voice moaning burning words of love back to a heart that wasn’t his.

A gasp.

Bed springs.

Shane’s moan again, and then subsequently Nicky’s.

Right. Mark felt broken within seconds. Really broken.

The eviscerating pain inside threatened to discharge an army of tears but no, Mark wasn’t going to let it happen. Not this time. He didn’t want to be that person; crying alone while listening to the most important person in his life be happy without him. Too much time and too much heartache had been wasted on that. He didn’t want it this time. He had to fight back, despite the noises on the other side of the wall twisting the knife inside him.

His phone beeped. Kian. Okay. A distraction.

**Jesus Christ, tell me u can hear this too.. Since when were they back together?**

This wasn’t a fucking distraction. Mark just sent back a series of laughing emojis, his own face quite the opposite.

**Wanna go get dinner or something? Dont wanna hear this, mate**

He sighed and scrubbed his face.

Half of his heart told him to go out, to save his soul from hurting it even more with every second he had to hear Nicky’s voice not work for him. The other half told him to stay, to hide in the dark corner of his room and let the darkest corner of his mind take over and focus on a love that was never meant to be.

He reached for his jacket and headed outside with half a heart.


End file.
